CotR Blue 1: Not Ravenclaw
by darkwarrior4742
Summary: Garrick Ollivander is captured by the Death Eaters. One-shot written for the "Colors of the Rainbow" challenge.


_Challenge Prompt: Write about a Ravenclaw_

 _Setting: Malfoy manor, shortly following Garrick Ollivander's kidnapping in 1997_

Garrick couldn't stop his body from trembling. So far he hadn't been mistreated, but he had no illusions about what was to come.

It was just yesterday that the death eaters had shown up at his store. For all his skill at making wands, he had no doubt that had he tried to fight, he would have lost. So, in order to avoid needless bloodshed and suffering, he had surrendered immediately.

Others would certainly call it an act of cowardice. To such people, he would ask: "Would scars serve me better? Perhaps my death? My 'cowardice', as you call it, changed nothing except my own suffering, and I do not feel shame at avoiding needless pain." Sitting here, knowing what was to come, he could almost make himself believe that he truly felt no shame in his decisions.

The room he was in was a dining room, one that was seldom used if he was not mistaken. The décor was nevertheless immaculate, if dark. Not that he would expect anything else from the Malfoys. Their morals might be questionable, but their taste had always been impeccable. He remembered Narcissa coming into his shop, looking to see whether his wands would be acceptable for her darling son. Others might have been offended, but Garrick knew he had nothing to fear. His wands were the best, after all, so why should he fear those who questioned his craftsmanship?

Garrick was roused from his memories by the sound of a door opening. He had been left alone, but was certain that he had been monitored. Had he attempted to flee, or to attack, the result would have been pain. So, he waited, and hoped that he might be able to escape the upcoming conversation with a minimum of suffering.

As he looked up, his hopes faded as the Dark Lord walked in. Following shortly behind their master came Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew. The latter two kept their eyes fixed on their master, but Voldemort held Garrick's gaze even as he took a seat at the opposite end of the table.

"Mr. Ollivander, I cannot begin to express how grateful I am that you have decided to join us willingly." Voldemort began. His voice, oddly reptilian, sent shivers down Garrick's spine.

"It is foolish to fight the inevitable, and whatever else I may be, I am no fool." Garrick responded. Maybe he could bluff his way through this?

"Indeed, my reign _is_ inevitable. I had you brought here to answer a number of questions, regarding my wand and the wand of Mr. Potter." Voldemort said.

"I remember them both well, but I'm not sure there's anything I can tell you that you don't already know." Garrick replied. For all his desire to avoid pain, he had no interest in helping the madman in front of him.

"Lucius, Peter, if you would excuse us? I think I need to have a more… _private_ , discussion, with our favored guest." Lucius and Peter stood, nearly tripping over themselves to bow to their lord as they left. Once the door to the dining room closed behind them, Voldemort stood and began walking over to Garrick. "I think you have much you can offer… more than I had initially sought, I think."

Voldemort stopped mere feet from where Garrick sat, and it was all he could do not to flee in terror. "You see, when you came here so willingly, I began to wonder whether you might actually be on _our_ side. Your family is an old one, after all. Pure, after all these years. Perhaps you were helping the mudbloods unwillingly? The Ministry made its stance on the matter rather clear, you couldn't have avoided selling to them without being shut down. That can all change." He pointed at Garrick's left arm, and he found it thrusting out against his will. "Take my mark, serve me, and you will be permitted to work your craft in peace. You will take wandlore to new heights, unfettered by the Ministry's petty rules and policies!"

For a moment, visions of research and wands swam through his head, but despite the tempting vision, Garrick knew he could never go through with it. Still, if he claimed he had been forced, maybe this would be a way out? A way to survive his imprisonment? A short nod from him was all that Voldemort needed before he began casting.

The pain felt like it lasted an eternity, but when it faded, Garrick looked down and saw that his arm remained free, unblemished. He looked up to see Voldemort's face contorted with rage.

"You thought to deceive _me?!_ Me, the greatest wizard this world has ever seen? My mark can only be taken willingly, and you are not willing, _Ollivander._ " He stood and started pacing furiously. " _Why?!_ You're intelligent, surely you have no love for the mudbloods that pollute our world, for pandering to the muggles instead of ruling, as is _my right_!"

' _He's gone insane,'_ Garrick though. There was no way he would escape this without torture. Well, if that was the case, he may as well speak the truth.

"Have you never stopped to consider why there are so few from Ravenclaw that serve you?" Garrick asked, his voice surprising even him with its steady tone. Voldemort stopped and stared. "Slytherin flocks to your banner, seeking to share in your power. Hufflepuffs may give their loyalty to anyone, and bravery serves the wicked and the honorable alike, but _knowledge_ is its own master. Others, like you, may twist it to your purposes, but the truth can never be unmade, only hidden, concealed."

"I cannot, will not serve you, because my entire _life_ has been devoted to knowledge, and you will never let any knowledge blossom that disagrees with your warped point of view. You, _Tom Riddle_ , are muggle-born, and you stand there and claim that 'mudbloods' pollute our world?"

Garrick shook his head. "I'm not strong enough to fight you, and I have no doubt that you'll break me. But you can never make me willing to serve, not when your very existence is a lie."

Voldemort screamed inarticulately, and for a moment Garrick was certain he was about to die. Then the screaming stopped, and Voldemort fixed him with a cold sneer. "You're right about one thing. I can certainly break you. You'll give me what I want before the night is through, and soon _everyone_ will bow before me."

* * *

Years later, Garrick wouldn't be able to recall how long he had been tortured. He wouldn't remember how long it had been before Peter came back, before he had been handed materials with which to craft a new wand for the rat-like man. He would only barely remember telling Voldemort that he could overcome the brother-wand effect by using a different wand.

What he remembered clearly, was at the end, being told to hold his arm forward again, and Voldemort's scream of rage when Garrick had been proven correct. He had no strength to fight anymore, but his heart still craved knowledge above all else.

When he had been thrown into the dungeons that night, his left arm alone was unblemished. It was that sight, he thought, that kept him sane until that sweet girl had arrived, until Harry Potter had arrived to rescue them both.


End file.
